


Darkness Contained

by AntiJill



Series: Darkness Series [3]
Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Antisepticeye Sean McLoughlin, Darkiplier - Freeform, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, F/M, M/M, Septiplier AWAY!, can you smell the angst tonight, maybe some smex too, this book is gonna be angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-07-02 06:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiJill/pseuds/AntiJill





	1. Chapter 1- Memories

**Mark-**

"Mark. Come on."  
I groan and roll over on my side, pulling the blanket closer. "Can't you do it?" I mumble.  
" _I_  have work, and I told you not to schedule her appointment for 7:30 because you wouldn't want to wake up. It's now 7:05." Janet says, and my eyes fly open and I shoot up in bed. "Shit!" I say, jumping out of bed and dashing around the room getting dressed. In five minutes I'm ready, kneeling next to Chica by the front door and putting her harness on. Once I have it connected to the leash, I grab the paperwork and keys and kiss Janet on the cheek, opening the door. "Mark."  
I turn around to see Janet holding out my phone. "Thanks!"   
"Your shirt is inside out." she says. I look down. Sure enough, it is. Dropping the leash, which Janet quickly grabs before Chica can run out the open door, I take off my shirt and put it back on correctly. Grabbing my phone, paperwork and keys, I run out the door. My fingers just wrap around the handle of the drivers side door when i head "Mark!"   
*What did I forget now?* I turn towards the house to see Janet and Chica standing in the doorway-Chica! I quickly run over, taking the leash from Janet. "Told ya not to schedule the appointment for 7:30." Janet says in a sing song voice. "Yea, yea, yea, see ya." I say, running to the car with Chica and speeding towards the veterinarian as fast as I can.

  
It's been a few hours since I got back. Janet had already gone to work, so I recorded a few videos. Now I'm wandering around the house, cleaning up. I walk into the guestroom, looking for a spare blanket, when I see a flash of green on the bed, and I freeze, heart jumping. Then I realize, no, it's not him, it's just Chica's green monkey plushie.  
I glance towards the dresser, and I can vividly see him there, yanking open the drawer, grabbing clothes and throwing them in his suitcase. I watch as he grabs his suitcase, turn my head as he walks past me, ignoring me, and out the door, but of course, he's not there at all. I take a labored breath, then another. My heart is pounding, when did that happen, and my breaths are becoming quicker, it's hard to breathe, when is Janet gonna come home, I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe and my chest hurts, my head feels light, I feel dizzy, faint, and I still can't breathe. I sink to the floor, feeling as though I might vomit or die, and that's when I notice my hands are violently shaking but I don't care because I can't breathe and I'm going to die and my chest aches so bad.

Everything aches, everything hurts. My mind aches with memories of him, seeping out into my everyday life and making it a nightmare. My body aches with his touch, any physical contact would send me back, back to the times when he would hug me, when he would kiss me. My heart ached, wanting to hear those words, those fateful words.   
  
 _I love you._  
  
That all spins through my mind as I hear Chica barking loudly, nudging my arm with her nose as she tried to get me off of the floor. Her barking began to fade, as my whole world did as well.

The next thing I know, there's something wet and cold touching my face, then something warm and rough. I open my eyes to find myself on my back, Chica aggressively licking my face. What the hell just happened? The chest pain, the breathlessness, did I have another heart attack?

Chica barks and whines a small bit, nudging my arms.   
"O-Okay, okay.. I'm up." I mumble, slowly propping myself up on my elbows. "What- what happened?" I ask, rubbing my forehead. It's not like anyone could answer, but I still asked it.

My phone starts ringing, though it sounds a lot louder then usual. Did I hit my head? I answer it. "Y-yes?" I hear Janet say "I got work early, I'm on my way home now."

"A-Alright." I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose. I remember the last thoughts I had, and I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory.

"Mark? Are you okay? You're stuttering."  
"Y-yea. I'm fine, just please get here soon."  
She says goodbye and hangs up, and I lie back down, not sure if I'll be able to stand on my own. I saw him, so vividly, it was like he was right  _here_...  
But he's not here. Hasn't been since the day we got out of the hospital. When he packed his bags and left...  
I don't know where he is. I was originally his guardian, after he fell down the stairs, but once I tried to strangle him, that obviously went out the window. After we were released, I was okay to go home, since I'm going out with my nurse/counselor. But Jack... he packed his bags, left, and didn't come back.

I sigh to myself, mulling over the thoughts that came into my head at a mile a minute.   
  
Could I have done it differently?  
  
 _Should_ I have done it differently?  
  
I mean... I'm happy with Janet; much happier than I've been with Sean... right? It's been nice with her. She helps me cook, she calms me down when I'm overly pissed.. hell, she even helps me study some Korean occasionally. But, even with my life back on track, it hasn't been exactly easy with Dark breathing down my neck. He seems to be everywhere, always on top of me about that Anti thing. Then again, how are Sean and Anti? Are they doing well?  
  
I glance over to my phone, which is laying on the floor beside me.. One side wants to call Sean, ask him how he was doing and such. I haven't seen him in God knows how long, it felt like an eternity- I think I'd be the right thing. Then again, on the other hand, he probably hates me. Knowing how I snapped his heart in two  _more than once_ , like it was nothing, and abandoned him both of those times.

With trembling fingers, I unlock my phone and find his contact. God, I haven't used it in so long, haven't heard his voice...  
Quickly I tap on his name, and it begins dialing. As it rings, I feel my heart start racing again, my breathing quickens with each ring, and then I hear his voice. "H-hey." I say, but he talks right over me. "This is Sean, I'm probably busy and can't reach the phone, I'll call you back when I can!" My heart sinks. I'm the one person he  _won't_  be calling back.  
And for good reason.  
Head spinning, I lay back down, feeling that I'm about to either vomit or die.  
I'd take the second, if I had a choice.

I stand up and crawl into the guest bed. I set my phone down on the nightstand, sighing shakily. I slowly pull the covers over my head, feeling miserable. I then feel the bed dip, and then hear sniffing noises.   
"Hey, Chica." I mumble, peeking out from the blankets. I just want to curl up into a ball and vanish, and Chica can see that. She nuzzled my face, giving my forehead reassuring licks. She let out a soft whine again.

"I know, I know, girl." I say. I need to get up, I can't stay in this bed, where Sean slept. I can't stay in this room, period. Shakily I swing my legs over the side of the bed, getting to my feet and instantly falling back onto the mattress, still weak. Chica barks, and it's a very judgemental bark. "Shut up." I mutter. "I just need sleep.." I add, rolling onto my side. "That's it. Then I'll feel better." I close my eyes, sighing shakily. "Yeah. I'll feel better." I chuckle bitterly. I lay still for a few moments, letting sleep take hold.  _'I'll feel better.'_

What feels like two minutes later, the door opens and closes. "Mark?" Janet calls, and I mumble something. A few minutes later she walks in. "What are you doing in here?"

I mumble something else, and she comes and tears the covers off of me. I let out a small whine.   
"Janet..! I was sleeping..."

She sighs. "In the guest room, at four in the afternoon?" I glare. "I didn't feel well."  
Her eyes narrow. "How so?"  
"My chest hurt, and I-I couldn't breathe, and I got dizzy, and then I...passed out."  
She frowns. "Mark! When were you gonna tell me?"  
"I don't know." I mumble.

She sighs, placing her hands on her hips.   
"What happened? It sounds like an honest-to-goodness panic attack, but..." she shook her head. I didn't want to tell her what really happened, but I couldn't think of an excuse.. I just sat there, staring at the blankets

"Mark..."  
"I was thinking...about Sean...about him l-leaving." I whisper. "Next thing I know I'm dying."

Janet frowns softly, sitting down on the bed next to me.   
"I'm sorry, Mark. For what it's worth... I'm sure it won't happen again. I'll always be here for you." She whispered, planting a small kiss on my cheek. I let a small smile appear.

"Thank you." I say, reaching over and taking her hand. "What you need is some fresh air. Clear your head." she says, and I groan. "But I don't wanna..." I whine.

"But you gotta..." she whines back jokingly. "Come on. It'll be good for you! Hey, how about you bring Chica?" She looked to the golden pup, who was laying at the foot of the bed. "You wanna go for a walk with Daddy, Chica?"

Chica whines excitedly at the word walk, getting up and running towards me, staring at me with big brown eyes, tongue hanging out slightly. I sigh, there's no way I can say no to that. " _Fine_..." I groan, rolling my head towards Janet while I scratch Chica behind the ears.

Chica leans into my touch, then leaps off of the bed, running to the door.   
"Look! She's so excited!" Janet giggles, beaming widely. She almost reminded me of-  
  
No.  
  
Not now.

"Yes, yes she is." I force myself to stand and put on her leash. I kiss Janet goodbye and head out.


	2. Chapter 2- Sorry

**Mark** -

Chica's a good dog.

  
Which is why I'm surprised when she almost rips my arm out of its socket.  
We're at the park, I'm standing holding Chica's leash while she sniffs the grass excitedly. Suddenly, her head shoots up, staring somewhere in the distance, and before I know what's happening, she's off like a rocket, leash yanked from my hand. I sprint after her, shouting. "Chica! Stop!"   
When I finally reach her, she's on top of someone, licking them aggressively. I can't see the person's face, but they're petting Chica, laughing.   
I hurry up to them, grabbing Chica's leash and pulling her back while speaking. "I'm sorry, she normally never does that, I don't know what-"  
I freeze. It...it can't be.   
But it is.  
The green hair, those blue eyes, the smile that's fading once he registers who I am.  
Sean.

I freeze, swallow, and start to lead Chica away, whom was still pulling violently at the leash.  
"S-Sorry." I murmur, my gaze avoiding Sean at all costs.

He doesn't say anything, and when I look over my shoulder I see him walking away. Part of me wants to say something.  
No  
Please  
Come back  
I'm sorry  
Don't leave, not again  
But I don't say anything  
Instead, I run. Away from him, away from the park, away from it all. Chica by my side, keeping pace, I sprint all the way home, stopping only when I close the door behind me, breathing heavily.

"Mark? Back so soon?" I hear Janet hum. Chica then looks at me, seemingly disappointed. She lets out a small puff of air, trotting into the kitchen and over to Janet. I catch my breath before walking into the kitchen as well, seeing Janet making dinner. My heart pangs, as I remember Sean and I making dinner there.

What the hell is wrong with me? Everywhere I go, I'm remembering Sean, or seeing him. I don't know what's worse. All I know is I can't stay home, trapped with these memories, not if I can help it. It would be nice, to spend a few hours in a place where there's no trace of Sean. Just me and Janet. I walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind and leaning my head on her shoulder. "Janet?" I hum softly.

"Mark?" She responds, turning her head to see me. "What is it?" Chica's sitting there, her tail thumping against the floor as she watches us.

"I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to leave this here and go out to eat." I say, and she raises an eyebrow at me. "Come on, you work too hard, let's just have some fun, go out and relax." She doesn't answer, instead saying "Mark, you're sweaty." I quickly let go of her, realizing that I am indeed drenched in sweat from my run. "Please, Janet." I whine.

She lets out a soft sigh, running a hand through her hair.   
"Fine, fine. But on one condition." She says, and I nod. "Anything." I reply quickly, eager to get out of the house.   
"Go take a shower. You smell." She teases, laughing a small bit. I roll my eyes.  
"You just can't take the musk of  _man_." I shoot back, causing her to scoff as I walked off.

"A man who uses wildflower scented body-wash." she calls after me.

"It's mountain flower!" I call as I walk to the bathroom. "Much more manly!" I can hear her laugh in response, clear, bright and contagious.

I step into the shower. The warm water helps me relax, and I just try to empty my mind of thoughts. I'm going to have a nice evening with Janet. That's all. Nothing bad would happen.   
After I shower, I change into my grey suit, then tackle my hair, trying to make it lay semi flat.

As I wage war against my hair, I look at myself in the mirror. I look good, I'll give myself that. Better then I did in the hospital, anyway. When I got home and properly looked at myself in the mirror, I was scared. Unshaven, hair a birds nest, pale skin, an empty look in my eyes.  
In the corner of my eye, I see a dark shadow. I turn to see Dark in the corner of my vision. "You can't run from your memories, Mark. Your own mind." he hums.  
"Yea, but I can sure as hell try."

"So? What does trying matter?" He asks with a scoff.   
"I- uh-" I try to think of a reason, but my mind comes up blank.   
"Exactly." He hisses, shooting a dirty glare at me.

"Fuck off." I mutter, and he rolls his eyes, fading away. I put on a tie and try one more time to make my hair lie flat, to no avail.

Janet walks up behind me, in a stunning, blue strapped dress.   
"I don't think that'll work." She giggles slightly, parting my hair to one side and floofing it up.

"Hey, I was working on that for a while!" I say, feigning indignation.

"And did it work?"

"No.." I mutter, and she chuckles. "I look like a doof." I say, leaning down and kissing her. " _You_  look ravishing."

She blushes. "You don't look too bad yourself." I smile. In a few minutes we're ready to go. I feed Chica, with the promise that I'll bring her a doggy bag.


	3. Chapter 3- I Hate The Ocean

**Mark** -

We go to this beautiful Italian restaurant. The dim light from the flickering candles on the tables and the soft lamps makes it difficult to clearly see the people around us, and the voices all blend into one soft murmur, impossible to distinguish one specific voice. The waitress leads us to an empty table, and comes back a few minutes later to get our drink order. I look at the menu, and an idea hits me.

It wouldn't kill me...

I haven't had any alcohol in such a long time...

It wouldn't even be half a glass.

And after the day I've had, I could really use some wine...

Taking a quick glance at Janet, I look at the waitress and say "A bottle of your finest red wine, please."

Janet raises an eyebrow at me. "Mark..."

I sigh. "Janet, please..."

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mark."

" _Fine_. " I huff. "I'll have an iced tea, cancel the wine." The waitress nods, and Janet places her order.

After that, everything is going well. Interesting discussion, great food. It should have been a perfect evening.

Then I had to look over Janet's shoulder. A flash of green catches my eye, and I look to see someone in a blue suit with an eye catching green mop of hair on his head.

No.

I feel myself tense up, freeze, and Janet notices, looking at me in concern and turning to follow my line of sight, and her eyes widen. "Do you want to go home, Mark?"

"N-no. No. I'm fine." I say. He still hasn't noticed us. I keep looking at him, and...and the girl sitting across from him. Is that his...girlfriend?

A pang goes through my chest, and I scold myself.  _Why should it matter, Mark? It has nothing to do with you._

The girl looks up at me, our eyes meet, and her eyes widen in recognition, mine doing the same. It's not just any girl. It's Cierra, Sean's therapist. Is he...are they?

She looks at me,  and of course she recognizes me, I almost made out with Sean in front of her. Her lip curls a bit, and I know right then and there that Sean's told her everything. Everything I said, everything I did, and I wait for her to call me out, for Sean to turn around.

Sean turns his head a bit, and it's at an angle where I can see his blue eyes, the warm, dim light of the lamps and candles in the restaurant reflecting strangely off of them. I remember before, when I'd stare into those eyes, getting lost in them, blue eyes, like the ocean...

I hate the ocean.

So why am I still in love with those eyes?

And then his face turns, and those blue eyes meet mine.

And I feel like I'm drowning already.


	4. Chapter 4- Drowning

**Mark** -

My mind flashes back to a time when I would look in those eyes, and have an insurmountable urge to kiss him. Now, it's the opposite. Now, I want to flee, escape, run as fast as I can.

But I know I can't. Unlike the park, sprinting out would cause a scene.

It seems that the same thought has occurred to Sean, because he's risen an inch out of his chair, either to hit me or bolt, I'm not sure which, but he's frozen now, eyes glued to mine, colder then ice, frostier then the most  freezing sea.

I slowly look back to Janet, who's face is contorted into one of concern.

"Mark? Do you want to step outside?" She whispers to me, reaching over and taking my hand. Only when she did such, I realize that my hand is shaking.

I grip it tightly but don't move. On one hand, I can run away like a baby, every instinct in my body prefers that option. But on the other hand, I stay, continue the date, and pray to God that I don't lose it.

I keep looking at Sean, as though he'll have an answer. He hasn't moved, and I can see out of the corner of my eye that some of our fellow diners are shooting odd looks in our direction. We must look insane- two grown men, half out of their seats, involved in a staring match.

Yes. We must look insane.

If only they knew the half of it.

I smile bitterly to myself, chuckling on the inside. They wouldn't know. They wouldn't understand the absolute  _shit-storm_ that has been my life ever since Jack had joined and left it. It's honestly been like drowning. At first, it was peaceful, as if I was slowly sinking down, willingly. But after, it was like a living nightmare. Struggling to the surface, trying to gain oxygen and failing, as if I was being held down by some invisible and invulnerable force, that just wouldn't give up no matter how hard I kicked. 

And I wonder why I hate the ocean.

I hesitantly stand up all of the way, and take a step out from behind my chair.

Sean copies my movements almost simultaneously, as though our minds are linked. Janet stands, holding my hand, which I grip like a life raft in a violent sea. I watch as Cierra murmurs something into Sean's ear, too soft to hear, and he gives a jerky nod. I look down, and I see his hands. His hands are shaking, almost, if not just as badly, as mine. Is he drowning too?

Janet then carefully walked out from behind me, frowning lightly. She made her way over to the other table, and because I was still gripping her hand tightly, I followed after.

"Boys..." I hear her say firmly, and I can feel my heart sink. She wouldn't...

"We all know what's going on here..."

She couldn't...

"And I think we all know how to fix it."

She  _shouldn't_. 

I can feel my heart beating against my ribs, as if  threatening to break through them. I sigh shakily.

"Please." I whisper to her, but she doesn't seem to pay attention.

I stand there silently, breathing harshly, and by now all eyes around us have abandoned their meals, focusing on us instead, the free entertainment.

Dinner and a show, I think bitterly to myself.

Sean suddenly breaks the silence, taking Cierra's hand. "C'mon, let's go, we can find somewhere better." he mumbles, but Cierra doesn't budge, saying in a voice harder then I ever heard from her "No, Sean." He looks back at her desperately, then his shoulder sag.

Janet locks eyes with Cierra, and I  _swear_ it's like they were communicating telepathically.

"Mark. Sit down." Janet says. I open my mouth to protest, but the glare she gives me is more than enough to make me sit down in my seat quickly. I literally just decided to avoid all contact with Sean, even if it would kill me. I could not have this happening again, not on my watch. I hear Cierra say the same thing to Jack, but modified for him. He obeys.  I smirk to myself; having a small victory is better than none at all. After a few moments of quiet murmuring between the two girls, Janet sits down across from me, seeming proud of herself.

My eyes meet hers, brown against blue. "Mark." she says, and I reply, same tone, same inflection as her, "Janet." She raises an eyebrow at me, and I do the same, almost laughing internally. This is giving me serious  déjà vu back to our good old meetings in the loony bin. Janet seems to have the same thought, as a small smile creeps its way onto her lips. I just roll my eyes, scoffing.

"What?" I ask her, a smirk tugging at my lips.

She smiles slightly and shakes her head a bit. "You're too stubborn for your own good." she observes, and I chuckle. "Hey, I learned from the best."I say, and watch as a bit of color rushes to her cheeks.  _Success_. I really do love Janet, but if I have to flirt with her just to distract her from this...this  _scheme_ of hers, then I'm willing to do it all night.

Janet giggles a small bit.

"Yeah, right. I'm not  _that_ stubborn." She mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Yes you are." I reply.

"No I'm not." She responds.

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

I don't respond after that, smirking victoriously. It takes a moment for her to realize, but when she does, she gasps and smacks my arm.

"Mark!"

I look at her, eyes wide and innocent. "Yes, Janet?" I reply, tilting my head. I can see Sean staring at us out of the corner of my eye.

She lets out a 'frustrated' exhale, shaking her head.

"Oh my god, Mark..." she laughs a small bit afterwards.

"What?" I ask, and she rolls her eyes. "You were trying to distract me on purpose!" she says, and I grin.

"And it totally worked, too."

"Did not!"

"Did too."

"Mark!"

" _What_?" I ask incredulously, and Cierra clears her throat softly.

I look over my shoulder to her, and flash a nervous smile.

"A-Aah... sorry." I mumble. Sean just narrows his eyes at me, those icy cold orbs of his staring deep into my very soul.

I look away, shivering slightly, and I can feel and see all the eyes on us, and all of a sudden, it angers me beyond belief. "Your food is on your plate, thank you!" I announce angrily, and the customers abashedly turn their eyes to their plates, or their fellow dinner guests. Janet places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly, and I can feel the message she's giving me:  _Calm down, another incident and you're gonna be back in the hospital forever. Please, calm down._

Cierra looks down at both Sean and I, and says, in what I'm guessing is her therapist voice, "So, we all know we need to talk."

Sean breaks his silence, letting out a cold, spiteful, bitter laugh. "What's there to talk about? Mark is a son-of-a-bitch, that's all there is to it, simple as that." Under the table, I can feel my hands ball into tight fists at my sides.

I laugh in about the same tone. "Takes one to know one, you Irish fuck." I spit back to him, causing him to scowl bitterly. Janet exhales sharply.

"Boys. If you could stop being so childish, then maybe we could actually finish our nice dinners, and go home." She growls quietly, sending a sharp, dagger like glare towards both of us.

"Now. Shall we?" She asks, eyeing both of us.

I sigh, jerking my head in a sort-of, kinda nod. Sean crosses his arms over his chest and mutters "This is bullshit." At a sharp glare from Cierra, he mutters "Can we just get on with it? Sooner I'm away from this bastard, the better." I scowl and stand up, nearly knocking over my chair with the sudden movement, towering over him, and Sean darts up a second later, our chests touching.

"You stupid son of a-"

"Mark!" Janet yells, grabbing my arm. "Mark, sit  _down_!" she hisses through her teeth, yanking me back into my chair.

I see Sean smirk out of the corner of my eye, and I almost get up again despite the fact that Janet has a vice-like grip on my arm. It's clear that she's holding her tongue, trying her hardest not to lash out at me or Sean. Cierra mutters something into Sean's ear, making him sigh obviously and loudly before sitting down. He honestly sounds like a bored teenager with the sigh, and I can practically feel the eye-roll he gave to Cierra. Janet sits back down across from me again, not before whispering sharply into my ear, "One more outburst like that again, and you're done. We're done. I'm done."

My eyes widen and I feel my hands start to shake violently, worse then ever. No, no no no, I can't lose her too, I already fucked things up and drove Sean away, not Janet too, I can't...

I nod to her, cramming my hands into the pockets of my suit in an effort to stop the tremors. My face probably has an expression of terror or severe constipation, because I can tell Sean is trying hard not to laugh, and Janet's threat, promise, is the only thing keeping me in this chair.

Janet notices my expression, and chews on her lip. Her brow furrows, and her expression reads that maybe, just  _maybe_ she went too far. I hear Cierra smack Sean somewhere, whispering, "Stop it, you child."

I take a deep and shaking breath, close my eyes for a moment, and try to calm myself down. She didn't mean it. She wouldn't have. I'm safe. She's safe. We're safe.

That doesn't mean I'm going to risk anything.

I open my eyes, and look down towards my pocketed hands, which are still trembling. I'm broken. Possibly beyond repair. 

A broken man.

And it's my fault.

I pull out my right hand from my coat, and visibly shaky, reach over for my glass of water. For a split second, I think of flinging it in Sean's face, but I restrain myself, slowly taking a sip and gently, carefully replacing it on the table.

Janet might actually be able to read my thoughts, as she's almost up and out of her chair, as if to stop me from doing such. When she sees I don't, she smiles at me, sits back down, and watches me. It's my turn to furrow my brow, now, as her stare is rather disarming. I mean, it's not like I'm not used to being watched; hell, it's what I do for a living. But it's the way she's watching me. The look in her eyes when they run over my practically rigid body.

I try to ignore her gaze, but it's either Sean, which I refuse to do, Cierra, who I don't know well enough to stare at, or Janet, so I take the easiest of the three and look back at my girlfriend. Cierra clears her throat and says "Okay, boys, let's talk." As if on cue, Sean gives a long, winded sigh, as though the thought physically pains him.

I exhale softly, groaning inwardly at the childish and stupid sigh Sean gave. Can't he see that the girls are trying to help us?

Then again, it's not like I wanted to be helped. Sean had fucked up my life in more ways than one and in  _both_ definitions of the term. Why  _should_ we become friends again?

Janet gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before standing up and joining Cierra. "Now, Sean, Mark." she says, looking at each of us in turn. "You two used to be great friends-"

"Key word, 'used ' to be. Not interested anymore." Sean interrupts. The girls look at each other, then Janet shrugs and says "Okay. Fine." And she and Cierra sit back down, just like that, to Sean's evident and  utter confusion.

I cock an eyebrow at Janet, wondering two things. One; why the fuck she decided to start a therapy session with Sean and I in the middle of a fucking restaurant which we were probably gonna get kicked out of, and two; why did she sit back down? It's not like she was one to give up, I've known her for too long.

She looks at me, with an expression daring me to open my mouth, but I'm stupid and do it anyway. "But, Janet-"

"No buts, Mark. You've already fucked up tonight." she says, and I feel myself physically shrink. No matter how angry she's gotten with me, she's  _never_ spoken to me this way before.

I hear Sean scoff. "More than you know, sweetheart." He mutters, and if it weren't for Janet staring me down and practically chaining me to my seat, I would've gotten up and beaten the ever loving shit out of that bastard.


	5. Chapter 5- Behind the Locked Door

**Mark** -

The next morning I wake up to a clear, sunny Saturday and a happy Janet, who seems to have forgotten all about the disaster date and the bad mood she was in for the rest of last night. While I upload that morning's video, she makes breakfast. Everything is going well, until she tells me that she's going to Cierra's, and that I'm going with her.

"But why?" I ask, or whine, more like it.

"Because we want to talk, and you need to get out of the house."

 

As we walk into the unfamiliar apartment, we're greeted by Cierra, who seems no more worse for wear after last night's fiasco. On the threshold I freeze, a thought just now occurring to me. "S-Sean isn't here, is he?" I ask, looking around me, but seeing no sign of him. She assures me that he's at his house, and I feel a bit at ease. 

After listening to the girls talk for a bit- it turns out that they have some mutual friends- I ask where the bathroom is. When I come back, Cierra asks if I can get her phone, which she left in the guest room, second door on the left down the hall. I walk in, and the door shuts behind me, I hear a lock click, and I'm greeted by a startled, angry Sean sitting on the bed. Two things hit me at once- I've been duped, and he obviously wasn't expecting me here.

 "What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, and he rolls his eyes. "Cierra didn't tell me you were coming till literally a minute before ya got here, so I've been in here. Besides, I have every right to be here. You don't, so why are you?" Ignoring his question, I walk to the door, jiggle the knob, sure as shit, it's locked. "C'mon, let me out!" I yell, and Janet says "This is for your own good, Mark!"

Sean slowly walks up to me and says "I would have been fine with never seeing you again. But now that you're here, I have a better idea. This is for what you said to me."

"What's for-" I start, but I'm interrupted by Sean's fist connecting with my nose. I feel something warm and wet trickle from it, and I don't know if it's broken but goddamn does it hurt. I take a step forward and land a solid blow to his cheek in return.

“That's for strangling me." I say, and we're off, fists and curse words flying everywhere, rolling on the floor, raining blows wherever we can and screaming profanities at each other in between, every horrible, awful, hateful word we can think of. There's no way the girls can't hear us, so why aren't they stopping us?

As quickly as it began, it's over, and we're both sitting on the floor, panting. My knuckles burn, my body throbs and aches. I lick my lips and taste the sharp, metallic taste of blood.

Sean's chest heaves with every breath he takes, his cold blue eyes locking on the marks he made on my skin. I glance up at him, scanning his expression and body movement for any sign of remorse. A twitch of the lips; a flash of emotion in his eye.

Nothing.

What was I expecting, anyway? That the man who's ruined my life more than once would actually feel regret for what he's done? My expectations are too high sometimes, I think.

Sean shakily gets up, a bit unsteady on his feet after what I did to him. I smirk lopsidedly, despite the blood seeping out of my upper lip as I eyed my work.

I had given him a black eye, I believe, the practically bright red skin already beginning to swell. There were bruises already forming all along his face and neck, where I had managed to wind him a few times. He lifted up his shirt to reveal more marks of my success, bright red marks appearing and a small bit of blood spilling out from where I had hit him.

Repeatedly.

He walks over to a mirror in the corner; a dresser set under it. He examines the wounds on his face and neck, making a scowling expression afterwards.

"Honestly, I think it's an improvement." I say with an even bigger smirk, confident that I had gotten a message across.

_"I fucking hate you."_

I press my lips together and look down, my nose throbbing intensely. Yep, I'm sure it's broken. I open my mouth, speech a bit muffled from my swelling lip, and say "But..." But I stop. But what?

There's nothing to say.

He turns to me, smiling coldly. "What, you thought we were gonna beat the shit out of each other and then what? Hug? Maybe kiss a bit?" he says in a mock optimistic voice.

I furrow my brow, and exhale quietly.

"No, I just thought we were going to sit down and have a nice tea party and talk about our feelings." I spit back at him sarcastically, rolling my eyes. I heave myself up off of the floor and go over to the bed, grunting slightly. I practically collapse onto the soft comforter.

Sean looks down at me and scoffs. "You look like shit, Mark." he says, and I gasp. "Really? I wonder why." In response, he just rolls his eyes and sinks to the floor next to the bed, leaning on the frame so his hair is close to my head.

I hug a pillow, holding it under my aching head so I could have  _some_ comfort. I settle myself in, and we just sit there, in the quiet.

Sooner that I had wanted, the quiet gets unbearable, so I shatter it into pieces.

"I see you've moved on."

"Yes, I have, actually, and I'm quite-" he stops and shakes his head. "No. I haven't. Just...just distracting myself." I furrow my brow. What he's saying...it makes no sense.

"What do you mean?" I ask, confusion lacing my tone. "You seem happier with Cierra; happier than with me, at least." I mumble the last part. I don't know why, but it pains me to actually admit that Sean looks happier. It's probably just my pride...

He turns and looks up at me, bewilderment in his eyes. "You don't get it, do you? You don't get it, the effect you have on people, on their lives...and then you just kick them out, leave, and -and-and...."

I sit up abruptly, staring down at him with cold eyes.

"Well, if I recall correctly, it was YOU that left me!" I bark at him. He flinches, cowering back from my stare. I groan slightly, and lay back down on my side, facing away from him like some hormonal teenager.

"W-why did you say it? You s-said you were leaving me, f-for Janet, you said she w-was better." he says, and I sit silently, trying to think how I can explain it, that it wasn't me, it was Dark, but he didn't have to listen, didn't have to turn off the intercom, block me out, ignore me,  _leave_ , leave me to drown.

He sniffs and I hear him stand up and he mumbles "I-I can't even talk to you without us f-fighting." I can hear the tears in his voice, and his footsteps move to the door, where he jiggles the knob aggressively. "I want out!" he shouts.

"No!" Janet yells back, and in response, Sean bangs his fists on the door. He grunts in frustration, shouting the same phrase a few more times before he finally gives up. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him slowly slide down the door, his fists against the painted white wood. He eventually crumples to a ball on the floor, sniffling and whimpering pathetically.

I swallow harshly, and before I know what I'm doing, I'm sitting up, walking towards him.

No. Stop. What are you doing?

He's in pain. I can't just watch.

Stop!

But then I'm sitting down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, my mind screaming at my body.

He looks up at me, instinctively flinching. I can see the tears streaming down his face, mixing in with the blood from his cuts. From the cuts that I had put there. He was crying, he was hurt, he was in pain because of me.

At that moment, guilt hit me like a truck.


	6. Chapter 6-Burning

**Mark** -

I sigh and sit back against the wall, scooting away and keeping my distance. _Stupid, Mark, stupid!_  keeps playing over and over in my head like a broken record, and I don't know how long I can take it, the silence, the emotional self beat down, the  _distance_...

I mean, I had just come to terms with having him out of my life, for good, and now this happens...

And now, I just want him back in my arms.

Jack stares at me, and it seems he's having the same thoughts as I am. He starts to move towards me, crawling on his hands and knees, but then backs up and sits on his heels, massaging his temples slightly.

"M-Mark..." He starts, looking up at me with his eyes filled with emotions. Tiredness, remorse, need.. it's what I want and don't want to see him express, at the same time. "I'm sorry for how I've acted these past few months... I've just been being petty and just- just a douche, really. I never  _actually_ wanted to stop talking to you..." He rambles slightly.

Part of me wants to turn him down, to refuse his story, his offer to be friends again, because that part knows,  _knows_ that this can only end in pain for the both of us. But, the other part, the part that wants Jack back, is stronger.

I open my mouth and talk quickly, as though I can't get the words out fast enough and someone's going to stop me before I finish. "I shouldn't have let things get so out of proportion, I'm sorry, Dark said those things, but I should have apologized instead of getting angry... I'm an idiot, and letting you leave was honestly one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made."

He looks at me, and his eyes fill with tears and disbelief. No other words were exchanged as he made his way over to me, wrapping his arms around my neck and sobbing into my shoulder. I felt a few tears of my own slip past the barrier of my eyes, and I wipe them away quickly. My arms find themselves around Jack's waist almost instantly, and I'm rubbing his back, shushing him calmly and planting gentle kisses on his slightly yellow hair.

"It's okay, it's okay..." I coo softly. Even though he's crying, this feels amazing, this is right, I've missed this, more then I knew. And then he pulls away and wipes his tears with his hand, and next thing I know, arms still around him, his lips are pressing against mine, ignoring my swollen and bloody lip and probably broken, definitely fucked up nose.

At the moment, I'm in pure emotional bliss. I'm loving this , every second of it brings me further and further into an amazing feeling. I try to ignore the pain that shoots through my lips as his crash against them, and just focus on moving them in sync with his. One of my hands slinks up his back and runs through his hair, the other pulling him as close as I can possibly have him, as if to make up for lost time; for lost love; for lost contact.

If it's possible, he pulls me even closer. In the back of my mind, I notice something. Kisses with Janet were like molten lava, slow, warm, satisfying. With Sean, it's different. Kissing him is like fire, consuming and burning everything in it's path, and needing more, always more, and wanting it too. Beautiful, destructive, powerful, life giving.

To my regret, Sean pulls away first for air, panting lightly with a wild grin on his flushed face.

"Th-That was..." he trails off, looking to the side.

"Amazing." I finish, and almost go back in for another kiss until I hear the lock click, and see the door handle turning.

I sit back, quickly trying to adjust my shirt, make myself look normal, and move back a bit, away from Sean, looking up to see Janet and Cierra enter the room, looking around for a second before seeing us on the floor.

I smile crookedly at them.

"He-Hey... uh-"

Before I can finish, Janet is already looking both of us over.

"Idiots, what the hell did you do to each other?" She snaps slightly, looking at my broken nose with narrowed eyes. I glance to Sean nervously, and he returns the same look.

"We, uh, well..."

I look at him, he looks at me, and we both burst into peals of laughter, despite the pain we're both in, and Cierra and Janet both look at each other, obviously questioning our sanity. "What the hell are you two going on about?"

I try to get out an answer, but it's not even intelligible through my insane laughter. I actually fall on my back, holding my stomach from the laughing and the pain. Sean soon follows, still laughing hysterically. Janet stands, stares down at me, and sighs slightly.

"What have we done?" She mumbles.

Sean looks at me from the ground beside me and takes my hand, as if the girls aren't even there. "You're...you're an idiot."

"I...I know!" I manage to gasp out between stupid giggles.

"I'm just gonna... go..." Cierra moves to the door, and slips out. I don't even notice at the moment, just staring into Sean's eyes.

I know I'm not drowning anymore, as his eyes are light and filled with pure happiness,staring right back into mine. Janet narrows her eyes lightly, but doesn't leave the room. It's like seeing the sun through the waters surface.

I'm not drowning anymore.

"Come on, boys. Get up, so I can patch you both up." She said, and gestured for us to do as she asked.

I move to stand up, groaning as I do so and pulling Sean up. Once we're both on our feet, he still doesn't let go of my hand, pulling me down the hall after Janet, who grabs a first aid kit and sits down on the couch with us as she starts dabbing at a cut over Sean's eye, who squeezes my hand every time the cleaner stings him.

I shift a bit in my seat, rubbing my thumb over Sean's knuckles gently as I try to comfort him as much as possible. I scoot a bit closer to Sean, and smile at him happily.

"Can you stop moving, Sean! " Janet snaps in an irritated tone, and I raise my eyebrows at her, but she doesn't meet my eyes as she finishes placing the bandages on him.

I frown, trying to think about why she could be mad, but it is kind of hard to concentrate when my head feels like it will implode at any moment. Before I know it, Janet's already tending to my wounds, a concerned look in her eye.

"God... you  _broke his nose?_ " She gasps towards Sean.

Sean frowns and looks down, embarrassed. "Y-yea.." he mumbles, and I punch him lightly in the shoulder. "Hey, no harm, no foul."

Janet scoffs. "There's plenty of harm, Mark! Your fucking nose is broken!"

"Yea, well...it's still okay, I'm not mad." I say, and Sean looks up at me, an adorable small smile on his face.

"Mark, I'm going to realign your nose." Janet says. Quickly I grip Sean's hand as hard as I can, and she takes my swollen nose in her hand, me almost screaming in pain. "On three, okay?" I nod and she says "One-" And jerks my nose hard to the side. I curse and hold back a scream."You said on three!" I gasp.

"Oops." She shrugs nonchalantly, hopping off of the couch and walking towards Cierra. I frowned lightly as she looked over her shoulder and said; "We'll give you some time to catch up."

"O-kay?" I say, watching as they grab their purses and leave the apartment, closing the door behind them without a goodbye. "Cierra does know this is  _her_ apartment, right?" I say, smiling, and Sean chuckles. I raise my eyebrows at him. "So...we're alone."

He looks at me, smiling, and nods. "Yea..." And then out of nowhere, he pounces on me, grabbing me by the front of my shirt and pulling my face close to his, and he sits himself on my lap and he attacks my lips and the fire is burning again, and I absolutely love it.

I'll take burning up to drowning any day.


	7. Chapter 7- New Day

**Janet-**

I'd never meant to fall in love with Mark. It wasn't supposed to happen. He was the patient, I was the nurse.

Yet it did.

My coworkers had laughed at me, for falling for the 'psycho'.

Mad Mark, they'd called him.

When he had a fit, it was Maniac Mark.

I never listened to them, always keeping my heart in my head and letting it control my thoughts and actions.

I'd never meant to resent Jack. It wasn't supposed to happen. He was the patient, I was the nurse.

Yet it did.

And then this.

I really shouldn't have been surprised to come back to Cierra's apartment after lunch to find Mark and Sean asleep on the couch, spooning. Mark's body cradled Sean, his face nuzzled in the space between the Irishman's shoulder and chin, arms wrapped around his waist.

What did I expect?

This partly was my doing, after all.

I took a step closer and saw something on Mark's neck, the part that was exposed, that is. And not just any something-

A bright red hickey.

It shouldn't have surprised me.

But it still hurt like hell.

Before I knew what I was doing, there was a bright red hand-print on his cheek, and Mark was up, eyes wide as he let out a satisfying, "OW!". I felt rage coursing through my system, clouding my judgement as I screamed at Mark, asking what he was doing, and why. Jack was up as well, looking utterly confused and slightly scared, and from the corner of my eye, I watched Cierra retreat to the kitchen.

He raised his hands in a placating manner, and in a soft, calm tone, "Janet, listen, I-"

"No, Mark! Don't Janet listen me! Just shut up!" I shouted, and Sean looked at Mark in alarm.

Mark said in his deep voice "Okay. I think we all need to calm down and think about this rationally."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Says the one with anger issues and a history of battery and violence." I felt horrible as soon as I said it, and Mark's face fell, but his hands balled into fists, and Jack grabbed his upper arm.

Jack quietly whispered something into Mark's ear, and he turned to flash a smile at him. This caused my blood to boil.

"Get away from him." I say, voice dangerously allow. He wasn't going to touch  _my_ Mark.

"Janet. Think about this. You don't want anything to go south so fast, do you?" Mark asked me calmly, slowly stepping away from Jack nonetheless.

I shake my head. "N-no." He nodded and whispered something to Jack, who raised an eyebrow, then as Mark said something else, he smiled slightly, nodded, and walked down the hall. Mark sat back down on the couch, looking up at me. "Janet, would you like to sit?" he asked in an infuriatingly calm, rational tone.

He's talking down to me, like  _I'm_ the crazy one.

My eyes widened slightly, and I saw what he was doing. Reverse psychology,  _ha!_

Now, I was the patient, and he the therapist.

Nice one.

"Fine. I'll play your game." I spit, and sit down on a chair. "Are you prepared to diagnose? Do you have notes; an extensive knowledge of mental diseases?" He shrugs lightly at my question.

"No. But I have ears." He says.

"Oh? And what can you do with those?"

"Listen."

"To whom?"

"You, obviously."

He looks at me, eyes searching mine, for answers, or something.

"So. Uh...how are you feeling?" he asks, voice going high at the end, rolling his eyes and laughing at the absurdity of his question.

Like this is some kind of fucking joke.

Like my feelings are some kind of joke.

" _Honestly_ , I'm doing horribly. But, how would you be doing if you saw your significant other lying down with a hickey mark on their neck, spooning their friend whom you helped them regain trust and compassion with? Hmm?" I ask, and he sighs.

"Yes... ah... I, um..." he clears his throat, shifting in his seat and folding his hands together. I scoff.

He's nervous. Scared, even.

"No, I don't know how that would feel."

I laugh slightly. "No. No, of course you wouldn't."

He chews on his thumbnail, then clears his throat and says, "Okay... do you have a question?"

"Yes, I do, actually. Several. One is, was I just a standby? While you left your boytoy, did you just use me as a stand-in? So you wouldn't be alone at night, Mark?" I spill out, and his eyes widen, mouth opening in shock.

I smirk at this, confidently, and he purses his lips.

"No, Janet. Sean isn't my boy toy, and you aren't a stand in. That's bullshit. I do love you, and I do love Sean. I'm caught in the middle and I don't know which side to take, but I'm trying, okay?" He looks at me, dead in the eyes. "And whichever way this goes, don't get mad at me, please."

I look at him, those golden brown eyes, and my anger ebbs away. No matter what he's done, he's still the Mark that I fell for. Before I know what I'm doing, my arms are around him and I'm crying on his shoulder, and he rubs my back consolingly.

He stays there with me, rocking me back and forth and shushing me gently, trying to calm my sobs and tears. It ends up working, and then I just sit there, wiping away my tears and looking at him. Believe it or not, he was smiling at me. I sure as hell didn't believe it.

"Why are you smiling, Mark?" I ask, and he smiles wider. "Because, I think in life you have a choice. You can live and smile, or you can frown. I choose the first."

I smile wearily at him.

"I admire how you always look to the bright side, Mark." I mumble, and he smiles back.

"I try my best."

My gaze goes to the floor at this, and I run a hand through my hair.

"This... I don't know if this'll work." I say, and he sighs.

"Yea...Can we still be friends? I mean, if you want...

I mean, I'm sorry it happened this way, but you have helped me, Janet, in so many ways.. and I still want to be your friend."

I nod. "Yea... that'll be okay...yea, that'll be nice. I'd like that." He smiles and gives a hug. "Um, I'll go, let you have your space, think... Just give me a call, or stop over, if you want to hang out, or just talk."

I nod. "I have to pick up my stuff anyway."

"Yeah.." he chuckles a small bit, rubbing the back of his head. "I should go check on Sean." He mumbles, and stands up. I do as well, and give him one last hug before going to the door. He waves at me as I open the door and walk outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

_Today is a new day.._


	8. Chapter 8- A Cure for Love

**Mark-**

I sigh deeply, standing outside of his room and staring at the floor.

_Did I do the right thing?_

_Of course you did. You'll be happier with Sean._

_But will I really be?_

_Of course! Like I said, you'll be happier._

_Happier, but not any saner then you are now. You're talking to yourself, a full blown conversation. You do realize that, right?_

_Yes, of course I do, I'm not an idiot._

And on that note, I close my hand on the knob and open the door.

 

**Sean**

When Mark comes into the guest bedroom, I'm sitting on the bed, lightly playing with the comforter in between my crossed legs. I glance up at him, and he smiles at me.

"So, um... wanna go back to my place?" He asks me. I nod slightly, just staring back down at the comforter.

"Hey, Sean... you alright?" Mark's voice cuts through the temporary silence, and I shrug.

"I-I mean, kinda." I mumble, and he sits in front of me.

"Well, I think you can tell Doctor Iplier all about it." He says, pretending he has a clipboard in his hands and a pen, lightly pushing his slightly broken glasses up his nose.

I can't help but laugh at that. "You could use a doctor yourself." I say, my eyes taking in the full extent of the damage caused by my fists and feet.

He smiles. "I'm okay. Patients are my first priority. Now, tell me what's wrong, please."

"Well, I just- I just talked to Cierra, a-and I told her how I feel." I murmur, and he nods, signaling for me to continue. "And she nodded and told me to take as much time as I need figuring out my feelings. But I have  _no_ fuckin' idea how to figure them out." I sigh, and Mark frowns and consults his invisible clipboard, then looks up.

"Well... I have my diagnosis." He says, for some reason with a solemn voice.

"Um... what is it?" I ask curiously, laughing a bit as if this was a setup for a joke.

"I'm sorry, Jack, but... you're dying."

I laugh and punch him in the arm. "Shut the fuck up, you ass. " I say, and he laughs, then returns to a serious face and tone. "Seriously, though. One of two things could get happening here. One, you're on your manly PMS. And are going through serious hormonal imbalances, like that of a moody teenager. "

I narrow my eyes slightly, and scoff.

"Okay... so I'm basically going through puberty again?" I ask, and he shrugs with a nod.

"Basically."

"Great." I sat sarcastically, and he holds up a finger. "There is one other possibility. "

"Well? What is it?"

"You're in love. " he says matter if factly, and I laugh. "Seriously? Love?  _That's_ your diagnosis?!"

"This is not a laughing matter! Love is a serious disease, affecting 95% of the world population, and highly contagious! Symptoms include confusion, pounding heart, watering of the eyes, a feeling of butterflies in the esophagus, sweating, nausea, vomiting, shaking, feeling dazed or dizzy..." he rattles off, ticking them off on his fingers as he goes.

"Any  _other_ symptoms?" I ask the walking talking medication commercial.

"Oh, yea. In severe cases, death."

I scoff again, rolling my eyes.

"Okay then,  _Dr. Iplier_ ," I say incredulously. "How do I cure this disease?"

Mark smirks slightly at this, and slowly crawls on top of me, a lustful look in his eyes.

"Well, I believe I have a cure..." He murmurs, leaning down to the crook of my neck and placing light and teasing kisses along the skin.

"Mark..." I mumble out softly, earning a quiet hum from the half Korean above me. "We're still at Cierra's apartment..."

"So?" He hums. "Cierra's in the medical field, she understands the importance of immediate treatments. " He murmurs, lips and words burning my skin wherever they make contact."Besides," he practically purrs. "Don't you want to get better? I am a doctor, it's my job to make my patients feel good. "

"B-But can we at least go to your - _ah_ \- h-house first..?" I suggest, lightly moaning when Mark grazes a particularly sensitive spot on my neck with his soft lips.

He deliberates for a moment, then sighs, sitting up. He mutters something along the lines of "better to not risk being interrupted." To himself, then pulls me off the bed in a quick movement, pulling me out of the room and down the hall, calling a quick goodbye to Cierra before slamming the door shut and leading me out of the building. I guess he came in Janet's car, because we're forced to wait for a cab, Mark becoming more impatient, frustrated and agitated with each passing minute.

I make small attempts at calming him down, pressing gentle kisses against his cheek as time passes, and holding his hand slightly.

"We'll get there, love, I promise." I murmur in his ear, and this only earns a grumble for a response. After about ten minutes of waiting on the curb, we manage to flag down a cab, Mark gripping my hand tightly and almost yanking me inside.

Mark growls more then tells the driver his address, offering a ten dollar tip if he can get us there quickly. His foot tapping impatiently, he's silent the entire ride, throwing money at the cabbie when we get to his house and practically dragging me out of the car and up the walk. He yanks the front door open and closes it behind me, immediately pinning me to the door and kissing me roughly, ignoring the happy, panting Chica at our feet, come to welcome us home.

Home. 

_Home._

I don't have any opposition to what he's doing however, practically melting into the kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing back as roughly and as passionately as I can. He then slides his hands down my body, slipping them under my thighs and picking me up swiftly.

Mark walks to his bedroom, still kissing me aggressively, Chica at his heels. He sets me down on his bed, crawling on top of me, a look of lust in his brown eyes that I've never seen before.

This only excites me further, and I feel blood rush south. My eyes then fall on Chica, and I giggle slightly.

"It seems we have a straggler, Mark.."

Mark frowns for a moment, confused, then looks over at Chica and gives an exasperated smile. "Chica Pica, not now, okay? Daddy's busy."  In reply, she jumps on the bed and licks his face earnestly. Mark laughs. "Okay, okay, I love you too. " She barks, gives me a wet, sloppy kiss, then jumps off the bed and runs out of the room. Mark rolls his eyes. "Jealousy issues. "

I laugh at this.

"The real question is, who loves you more?" I ask him, and he shrugs.

"Well, I suppose we could find that out for ourselves, hmm?" Mark purrs slightly, walking over and shutting the door before coming back to me.

Our lips crash together again as he pushes me back down onto the mattress, but a minute later he pulls away, looking sheepish. "Sean...I've never done... _it_ with a guy before."

Huh. He's right. Neither have I. I mean, I have an idea of how it's done, from watching gay porn once (It was for a bet, I swear!), but I've never done it myself.

 "Well, we'll just figure it out as we go, okay? We'll just do whatever feels right. I mean, there's no _wrong_ way to have sex. Unless you're shoving your dick up someone's nose..."

Mark laughs a bit at this and nods.

"Alright, sounds good. No dick-to-nose contact." He said with a grin, and I nod in agreement.

"None at all."

After a moment of quiet, Mark cuts in again.

"Wait- are we going to have a- a safe word or something?"

"You think we'll need one?"

"You bet we will, baby." Mark says with a wink, and I feel my whole face flush red.

"Well, um, how about..." I trail off, thinking. How hard is it to come up with a word, dammit?

"Um... I'll just say stop, o-okay?" I mumble, and he nods.

"Sounds like a plan, Jack." He murmurs softly, and goes back to kissing me passionately. 

For once, for the first time in god knows how long, we're alone, the two of us, no cameras from all angles, no audience, no guards, no restraints, no inhibitions.

Just us.


	9. Chapter 9- Karma's a Bitch

**Sean-**

I'm sore.

Like, really sore.

That's the first thought that runs through my mind when I wake up the next morning, in Mark's arms, in Mark's bed.

The second thought to run through my head-

Holy shit. We actually did it.

I grin to myself, and almost  _laugh_ at the thought. 

Mark and I... we did it.  _It._

We've finally put enough trust in each other to do it, and we did. No stopping, no panicking, no incidents. 

It was fucking perfect. 

He was so caring while he did it- I could tell this wasn't just a fling to him. There was passion, there was love, and there was  _fire_.

I look down at my arms, my chest, expecting to see burns and scorch marks. Nothing except a few love bites, to my embarrassment. 

I'd thought that the kiss back at Cierra's apartment was burning me alive. Fuck, that was a candle compared to the wildfire that had consumed me, consumed us last night.

I sigh to myself, keeping track of where the hickeys were, making sure none of them would be visible on camera when I went to record. It seems Mark, in his haste, didn't have that in mind when he marked me.

I look over my shoulder at the sleeping male, expecting to see him with burns, ashes, hell, even a measly scorch mark- nothing. 

But, he happened to get his fair share of lovebites as well.

I almost laugh when I see a very visible hickey on his neck. He won't be too pleased about that. Guess we'll need to go buy some foundation, or whatever crap girls put on their skin to cover up blemishes. Not that I would call love bites blemishes. They mean much more then that. They have a sentimental value, I suppose. Or maybe a claim on someone. They've marked you as theirs, and vice versa, and in some cases, that's how it stays. 

Out of the corner of my eye, something catches my attention. What it seems to be is a silhouette, one of a man. But before I can study it closer, it vanishes. 

Probably nothing. 

At that moment, Mark stirs, stretches, groans, yawns, and opens his eyes, smiling up at me. "Morning. " he says in a hoarse, dead sexy morning voice. I could get used to waking up to that voice.

I smile back, rolling onto my side so we were facing each other.

"Morning, Marki." I whisper, only to find my voice is strained, and slightly cracking. I inwardly groan- on the aspect of recording today, maybe it  _wasn't_ such a good idea.

He laughs at my prepubescent teenage sounding voice. "I'm not surprised you sound like that. You scream LOUD."

I roll my eyes, mouthing a "fuck you" with a pout. I exhale sharply, clearing my throat.

"Shut up." I say, and  _OH GOD IT WAS WORSE_. 

Mark cracks up. "Damn, Sean. Want a cough drop? Or ten?"

I just pull the covers over my head and curl up in a small ball, earning a whine from Mark.

"Oh, come on, Seaaann..."

"No, leave me alone!" I whine like a little kid, and he chuckles. "Baaabe.."He then starts to tickle my sides, and I gasp, trying to swat his hand away from under the blanket. 

"I'm not stopping until you come out. " I ignore him, and he continues until I'm in fits of laughter, writhing around, gasping for breath, and my cheeks hurt from grinning so hard. "F-fine, fine, m-mercy!"

I poke my head out from under the blanket, and I see him smirk confidently. 

"Don't." I mumble, but can't help the grin that finds its way onto my lips. 

He laughs "You're adorable. " He says, leaning over, his lips finding mine.

I giggle a bit and kiss back.

"No, I'm Sean!" I murmur after we part, grinning happily at him.

He rolls his eyes. "Well,  _Sean,_ do you want breakfast?"

"Is that even a question?! O'course I want breakfast!" I chirp, and he groans. 

"How do you have so much energy?"

"I'm high on clovers. " I say, and he rolls his eyes. "Stop snorting that stuff, Sean."

"NEVER!" I exclaim, shooting my arms up in the air and letting out a loud "WOO-HOO!"

Mark quietly mutters "You're trippin balls!" Under his breath, and I crack up. It feels like I'm high, which I kind of am. An after sex high.

Mark just chuckles a little, sitting up and revealing his toned chest. I see where the fangirls come from, now.

"Sean. Sean!" Mark says, louder the second time, and I look at him. "Yea?"

He chuckles. "You were staring. "

I blush, unable to deny this accusation. "Well, I-I-"

"You like what you see?" He asks, smirking and adjusting his position so that he's leaning over me and looking down on me. My face flushes even more. "Mark..."

"Yes?" He hums, leaning down and placing kisses on my neck. 

"Mark, I'm hungry!" I whine. 

Mark smirks. "Really? I may have just the thing for that." He says seductively. 

"For food, Mark! Hungry for food! Not for you. "

Mark pouts dramatically at me, letting out a light whine. 

"Oh, come onnnnnnn..." he loses the seductive act almost instantly, turning childish within seconds. 

"Mark, please! I wanna go eat!" I whine, and Mark groans, rolling off of me. I quickly get up, hopping off of the bed.

I hear Mark snicker from behind me.

"Hey, nice ass."

I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. "Sh-shut up, you perv. " I stutter pathetically, and even though my back is turned, I can still feel Marks admiring eyes on me. Smirking, I reach behind me and rip the blankets off of Mark, wrapping it around my waist like a towel.

I hear Mark let out a whine of protest, and the shuffling of sheets.

"Oh, come on-" I hear him hiss, and I turn to see him dash to the closet. 

"Karma's a bitch." I say to him. 

"Shut the fuck up. " he mutters, fumbling to open the closet. "Something wrong, sweetheart?" I ask, turning to see Mark with a serious case of morning wood. That explains the hurry. I laugh. And laugh, and laugh. "My God, Mark." I manage to gasp out, still not entirely sure why I'm laughing so hard. It isn't even that funny, so I pass it off to my sex high.

Mark groans, his face flushed red as he fumbles through his closet, pulling out a pair of boxers and some Nike shorts. He pulls them on quickly before flipping me the bird. He walks over, malice in his eyes as he grabs my sheet, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't do it. Don't you dare. " I say, and we stand silent for a minute, staring at each other, him gripping my sheet, neither of us moving. And then, a smirk crosses his face and he yanks, sheet flying from around my hips and revealing my junk. "You asshole!" I shout, pushing him so he lands on his back on the bed, then rushing to the closet and grabbing any random boxers and pulling them on.

Mark absolutely howls with laughter, and it's probably good I pushed him because he would've collapsed by how hard he was laughing. His face ended up turning red, almost as red as my miserable blushing. He held his stomach, gasping out for air.

I glare daggers at Mark, narrowing my eyes and huffing sharply. 

"Ugh. I'm gonna go eat." I mumble, stomping out of the room.

His raucous laughter follows me down the hall, and then Chica runs up to me. I realize we abandoned her all night, and kneel down, scratching her behind the ears. I got absorbed in this, I guess, because I jump a fucking mile when I hear Mark's low voice behind me say "You gotta admit, it was funny. "

"No it wasn't!" I yelp, standing upright almost instantly. Mark scoffs a bit.

"That's because you were the thing that was funny... if that makes sense." He murmurs, and I shrug.

"Not really." I say, earning a sigh of defeat from Mark.

"Damn. I tried, at least."

"Yes, you tried. And failed." I say, and Mark chuckles, turning his attention to Chica. Chica runs from him, and he frowns, taking a step towards her, but she heads into the kitchen. 

"Chica?" Mark asks, and I smile. "She's probably just hungry, don't worry. She wants to eat, she has the right idea." I say, and Mark nods. "Yea, you're probably right." He says, not at all sounding convinced, and with that he follows his dog into the kitchen.   
 

 


End file.
